Walls
by deangirl1
Summary: Tag to 6.11. Dean's had a lot of experience with walls. The boys deal with the aftermath of Death returning Sam's soul while Cas and Bobby look on.


**Disclaimer:** This is a transformative work of fiction based on the original creation by E. Kripke. Written for fun, not profit – thanks for the loan...

**A/N:** Tag of sorts to 6.11. This one's been percolating for a while and is the product of a number of discussions held this fall and in particular after this Appointment in Samarra. I'm not sure it will be to everyone's taste – just my crazy pov.

* * *

Sam had screamed and then gone limp. Dean rushed to his side, frantic to find a pulse and his brother's chest rising and falling. He hadn't been disappointed.

Death had caught his wrist just as Dean was about to slap Sam's cheek to wake him up.

"Wait, Dean," Death had commanded. "Let your brother sleep. He's been through an ordeal. And he's more than a little sleep deprived at the moment. It will be better for all of you to let him awaken... naturally."

"But..." Dean started to protest.

Death rolled his eyes, fixing his gaze on Bobby for the first time.

Bobby, for his part, was staring wide-eyed at the scene before him.

"He's always been impulsive like this, hasn't he?" Death inquired of Bobby.

Bobby was more than a little freaked out to have Death's attention and barely managed a nod of agreement.

Death kept hold of Dean's wrist, his black gaze boring into the elder Winchester.

"Remember what I have told you, Dean. Think about what you may have learned today, and above all, keep your brother from scratching at that wall. We both know you are the best man for _**that**_ job."

And then, Death was just gone.

"What the hell, Dean?" Bobby finally managed to sputter.

"Help me get him out of these damn handcuffs, Bobby," Dean avoided the older hunter's gaze and question by focusing on the restraints on his brother.

Bobby passed him the key, his own gaze sweeping the panic room for any other unexpected guests – none of whom should have been able to get into the panic room in the first place. Bobby filed away the fact that all his protections and wards did nothing to prevent Death from entering... which was logical when he thought about it: there was no stopping Death.

Dean had freed his brother and was chafing his wrists.

"Sam?" Dean prompted softly.

He was rewarded by Sam's eyelids beginning to flutter open. Sam moved restlessly, but seemed in no more distress than if he was awakening on any other occasion.

"Dean," Sam frowned as his brother came into focus. "Why are you holding my hand? Are we in Bobby's panic room?"

Sam scanned the room, trying to shake the fog from his mind, and make sense of the thoughts and images running around in his head.

"It's ok, Sammy," Dean soothed, laying one hand on his brother's chest. "Everything's fine. We just had you down here to keep you safe. Just relax. Let's get you upstairs, so you can get some more rest, ok?"

Dean waited for Sam to make eye contact. Sam was still a little unfocused, but Dean saw him settle under his reassurance. Sam swallowed and blinked, the frown smoothing out.

"Yeah. Ok. I'm so tired. Why am I so tired?" the frown was back.

"Just relax, dude. Bobby? Help me?" Dean gestured to Sam's other side.

Between the two of them, they managed to get Sam up the stairs and onto the couch in Bobby's living room. Sam seemed a bit disoriented but otherwise fine. After drinking a glass of water, he let Dean ease him down on the bed and was soon fast asleep again.

Dean sank into a chair, dragging one hand down his face.

When he finally tore his eyes away from his brother, Bobby was staring at him.

"Did it work?" Bobby finally breathed.

"I think so. Yeah." Dean only had to look into his brother's eyes to know _Sam_ was really back.

"Ok, boy. Spill." Bobby frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You heard him, Bobby. Death gave Sam his soul back. He's walled the hell part up in Sam's freaky head, and as long as he leaves it alone, Sam's gonna be fine."

"What's the rest of it? When's the other shoe gonna drop? No way Death did this outta the goodness of his heart. What'd it cost Dean? You said you screwed up the deal."

"I... I'm not sure why he did it... He said some stuff. I didn't understand what he was talking about. Can we just deal with one thing at a time, Bobby? Please? Let's just concentrate on Sam right now. He's going to need all our attention and support." Dean turned pleading eyes on the older man.

Bobby sighed. He couldn't deny the boy when he looked at him like that. Even though Bobby was pretty sure that Dean needed some support himself, he nodded. He'd have to wait to get the details of Dean's day as Death and just what Death had said to him afterwards and what had happened between Dean going upstairs and bolting back down again. Bobby just hoped Dean would eventually share the information. Bobby hadn't failed to notice how shaken Dean was when he'd first reappeared. Only part of that reaction was because the kid was feeling guilty for not saving his brother. Something major had to have gone down for Dean not to have succeeded. And now there was some new deal on the table. There had to be for Death to actually get Sam's soul out of the pit. So what new burden had been laid squarely on Dean Winchester's shoulders this time? Bobby sighed again. These boys just couldn't catch a break.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean watched his brother sleep. His thoughts were turbulent, wondering when his brother would wake, what Sam would ask, how he should answer, what the hell Death had meant. Bobby had pretty much left him to his own devices other than forcing the odd glass of water on him. Dean was too caught up in his thoughts to even seek out anything stronger. After sitting vigil for six hours, Dean couldn't take it anymore and told Bobby he needed some air as he surged to his feet and all but bolted out the door and into the scrap yard.

Bobby watched as the young man paced in the yard, scrubbing at his head with one hand, his face revealing the turbulence of his thoughts. Bobby had seen this countless times. Dean would sort through recent events, categorizing and separating, until he could make some sense of them and his feelings. Then he'd store things away. Some would see the light of day again, and some wouldn't – at least if they did see the light of day, Dean would be the only one caught looking.

Bobby wasn't sure it was healthy, but then some days, he had no idea how Dean was still functioning at all after all he'd been through.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

It was the next morning before Sam actually woke up – naturally – as Death had suggested. Dean had finally given in to exhaustion and was slumped in the chair he'd drawn up close to the couch.

Sam's quiet "Dean?" had him jerking awake.

"Sam?" Dean's entire face softened as he looked at his brother.

"Are you ok?" Sam struggled to push himself upright.

"Take it easy... I'm fine..." Dean reached out to steady his brother, but stopped just short of touching him, suddenly awkward.

"We're at Bobby's?" Sam frowned and looked around the familiar room.

"Sure looks that way," Dean's mouth turned up in a half smile.

"Dean? What the hell is going on... I don't even..." Sam raised a hand to his head.

"You ok? Do you have a headache?"

"No. But I feel... like... muzzy..." Sam frowned. Dean watched the gears turning.

"Don't force it, bro. What's the last thing you remember, Sam," he asked gently.

"Ummm... Oh my God! Lucifer!" Sam pressed the heels of both hands into his eyes, his whole body shaking. Dean immediately grasped him by both shoulders, helping his brother as memories started to slam into him.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted.

Bobby had been lurking in the kitchen and was already hovering next to Dean.

"What do we do? Bobby?" Dean turned pleading eyes on the older hunter.

"I don't know! This was your idea, remember? Just hold on Sam..." Bobby looked on helplessly.

Sam clutched back at his brother, grasping both forearms. His eyes were still squeezed shut, but the shaking began to subside.

"Sam?" Dean tried gently. "Sam? You okay in there? Talk to me man. You're scaring the hell outta me."

"I..." Sam tried. "I... can remember bits and pieces... it's almost like with Meg..." His shaggy hair hung over his eyes as he leaned into his brother's hold. He slowly shook his head from side to side as if trying to clear the fog.

"Don't push it, Sam. Don't try to remember. None of it's important. What _is_ important, we can fill you in on."

"No. I need... I want to know," Sam insisted.

"NO! You DON'T need to know!" Dean shook his brother, finally getting Sam to open his eyes and make eye contact.

"You do NOT need to remember! You CAN'T remember because if you do it WILL KILL YOU," Dean's voice lowered to a growl, but it was a tone that Sam knew meant his brother was deadly serious.

"Ok, Dean. Ok. Whatever you say," Sam soothed. He wanted answers, but Dean was freaked about something, so he knew he'd have to be patient. "I... You're going to have to give me a bit more to go on here though, Dean. I mean, I can't help what I remember... it's just... there, you know?"

Sam knew he had screwed up in the past. That he had failed to listen to his brother when he should have. He knew too, that there had been times when Dean should have listened to him and hadn't, but until Sam had more to go on, he was going to trust his brother – he owed him that much.

"Ok," Dean breathed out shakily. "What do you remember – without pushing it?"

"I remember going after Lucifer. I remember him getting control and taunting me. And then it was just like with Meg. Just bits and pieces... and then waking up again, beating the crap out of you... and... being able to take control," Sam's voice faded out as his emotions overcame him.

"It's ok, Sam. I'm ok. Everyone is ok. Because YOU saved them. You did that." Dean ducked his head to re-establish eye contact with his brother, so Sam could see how proud he was of him.

"No, Dean," Sam held his brother's gaze. "WE did that. I couldn't have done it without you. I _**do**_ remember that."

Dean pulled his brother into a hug – and finally felt like it was truly returned.

After a few manly pats on the back, they pulled apart again.

"I remember Michael... Adam... and I falling... and then... nothing. Just waking up here. What happened?"

"That, my brother, is a very long story."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Well? How'd you get us out? How long have I been out of it? I thought I told you to go to Lisa?"

Dean couldn't help wincing.

"I didn't really, kind of a year, and I did," Dean returned.

"You aren't making a whole lot of sense, Dean." Sam frowned again, squinting his eyes closed.

"Sam?" Dean leaned forward again, grasping his brother's arm.

"I... I remember... Death? And... something about a wall and not scratching at it?" Sam opened his eyes, searching for his brother – the familiar line appearing between Sam's eyes as he concentrated.

"Yeah," Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair and down his face. "Yeah. That's real good advice..."

"I'm going to leave you two to catch up," Bobby interrupted, "I've got some things to do in the yard."

"I could use your help here, Bobby," Dean tried.

"Don't go, Bobby," Sam added his voice. "I might need you to fill in the blanks that Dean tries to leave out."

"I'll be back shortly. Let you two catch up first," Bobby refused to be swayed and left the brothers some privacy. Some of the events of the past year would be best discussed between the brothers. RoboSam wouldn't have been embarrassed or ashamed of his actions but _this_ Sam would be. It was his turn to need some air to pull himself together.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Bobby hadn't been out in the yard for more than five minutes before a gust of wind almost took his hat off and he found Cas standing in front of him. The angel's blue gaze was just as disconcerting as ever.

"Jesus, Cas! Dean's right – you should wear a bell or something," Bobby blustered.

Cas tilted his head. "It wouldn't ring until I was already here, anyway."

"That's not the point..." Bobby rolled his eyes. "What do you want? Can't you cut the boys some slack?"

"I heard that Death had returned Sam's soul. I came to see how he was."

"He's only just woken up. Dean's with him."

"That's good. That Dean is with him. How does Sam seem to you?"

"About what you'd expect. He's confused. But he doesn't seem to remember anything about hell... at least not yet. In fact, it seems like this entire last year is missing."

"That will likely not last. His mind may skip over or go around his memories of hell for the time being, but he had all his memories even when he was missing his soul. It is logical that if he remembers events before going to hell, he will remember events after getting out."

"Well, that should be a fun conversation or ten..." Bobby sighed.

"Yes. This last year will no doubt hold some troubling memories for Sam, but the memories of hell will be the ones that will have a devastating effect on him."

"Death said that he could keep those memories behind a wall in Sam's mind. It might not last forever, but it should last for Sam's lifetime, as long as he doesn't 'scratch' at it," Bobby explained.

"Interesting," Cas looked thoughtful.

"You think this wall thing will work?"

"It's hard to say."

"What's your best guess then?" Bobby tried not to let the exasperation he was feeling get the better of him – not that Cas was ever likely to pick up on it anyway.

"There are two factors to consider. What is trying to get in and what is trying to get out. I anticipate that Sam will have a very difficult time leaving well enough alone. But then, it's worked so far for Dean."

"What do you mean it's worked so far for Dean?" Bobby frowned.

"Dean has managed to contain his own experiences fairly effectively."

"Dean has a wall? When did that happen? Who did it? Did you...?" Bobby couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Dean has many walls. They were all built at different times, but they were all built by Dean himself."

"What? You aren't making any sense..." Bobby raked a hand over his beard.

"Dean has been putting unpleasant memories behind walls in his mind almost his entire life. After his mother died, Dean buried the memories and images so thoroughly he also locked away his ability to speak. He's gotten better at it since then."

Bobby just stared at the angel. He thought about all the times Sam had pestered Dean to talk and Dean had just shut him down. Even when Dean talked to him, Bobby knew he was always getting the Reader's Digest version. He was getting what Dean was willing to share. Dean had told Bobby very little about his time in Hell – only things that necessity had made Dean tell him. Sam had told him some of what Dean had told him, but it wasn't much more than Dean'd already told him.

"Sam and Dean are very different," Cas continued. "How they react to and deal with events is very different. Their experiences of Hell will have been as different as it is possible for them to have been. We must hope that Dean can convince Sam to listen to him about this."

"What do you mean their experiences were different? I mean, obviously, Sam was there longer and all, so it'll be more difficult for him to keep those memories locked down – is that what you mean?"

"No. Not at all. I'm not saying one stay was worse than the other. Dean was there for less time, but likely suffered more intensely. He had the full attention of Alastair. He was in what you would refer to as the 'general population' and all the demons would have had access to him. They wanted him to break as quickly as possible to start the seals falling. Sam, on the other hand, was more in 'solitary confinement'. He wouldn't have had to deal with the chaos of Hell..."

Bobby swore the angel actually shuddered. He forgot sometimes that Cas too had been to Hell to get Dean out.

"Solitary can be its own punishment though, especially for someone who punishes themselves with their own thoughts. In addition, Michael and Lucifer would have been at each other's throats – distracting them from Sam. Sam may have had Adam for company, as well. Adam, like both Sam and Dean, hadn't really _**earned**_ a place in Hell... Even when Lucifer and Michael may have turned to Sam and Adam to vent their frustration, it wouldn't have been with the same urgency directed at Dean. They assumed they would most likely be spending eternity together."

Cas paused.

"I'm still not sure what you're saying here," Bobby frowned at the angel.

"Sam and Dean are very different. They've had different experiences. Dean's experience was likely more intense, both physically and mentally. Sam's experience was likely more visceral. They also deal with experiences very differently. Surely, you have noticed this? Dean boxes things up. Sam unpacks them. Dean must convince Sam not to unbox those memories. Even if Death's wall starts to fail, Dean can help Sam learn to erect his own barriers, but Sam has to be willing to accept his brother's help in this."

"What do you think will happen if Sam doesn't leave it alone?" Bobby's voice was almost a whisper.

"I think the best case scenario is that Sam will go mad. I don't want to think about the worst case."

Bobby stared at the angel's impassive expression and shivered despite the relative warmth of the day.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

The boys were in almost the same position when Bobby peeked back in on them. Their knees were almost touching, and they were still deep in conversation.

"You have to listen this time, Sam. I know we never want to trust the other side, but this time I think Death really has a point."

"I don't want it in me. It's not... natural. It's like having something of... Death... _**in**_ me. What if there's something we _need _to know? That I need to know?"

"There is _**nothing**_ that we need to know about this, Sam. There's nothing to be gained by dwelling on time spent in the hot box. It's all lies and pain. That's all you need to know." Dean's voice was almost a growl and had that hard, dead edge to it that made Bobby hurt for the boy.

Bobby hung back, silently praying that Sam would listen to his brother. He knew enough to know that he should stay out of this.

"It's not healthy," Sam protested.

Dean snorted.

"Lisa said as much to me. But we know for sure that the alternative is worse."

"Do we?" Sam pressed.

"Yeah. We do. Look. You aren't defenceless. You don't even need their help for this. Remember back when we escaped from Glenwood Springs after the wraith? You asked me how I did it. How I kept going? And I told you I just shoved it down. This is just like that. You just put your own lid on it, and you keep going," Dean's voice was low and laced with emotion. He'd caught his brother's eye and he held it, searching for something.

"Ok, Dean. I'll try," Sam finally breathed, and Bobby saw the tension lessen in Dean's shoulders.

"That's all I'll ever ask of you Sammy."

* * *

**A/N2:** I'm not sure I'm entirely satisfied that this said what I set out to say...


End file.
